Chapter 24: The Great Escape
cw: violence, mentions of abuse
The first week of the summer was its usual torture, back at Grimmauld Place after so long. Sirius had stopped returning home during the winter holidays several years previously, which both seemed to please his parents and make them furious. It was not as if they truly wanted him around, as his presence disgusted them, but the fact that he rejected decorum and stayed at Hogwarts or at James' house for the holidays instead of attending all of the stiff, unpleasant pureblood Christmas parties clearly made them look bad.
Sirius still shuddered to think of the memory of his last Christmas there, for many reasons, among them being the fact that it was the first time his mother had used the Cruciatus Curse on him, though by no means the last. Sirius almost took pride in the fact that he had gotten quite good at recovering from the curse at that point, taking less and less time to recover. This was due to the fact that he grew stronger as he was older, but the regularity of the occurrences definitely played a large part, as well, he thought.
Recklessly, Sirius had taken to provoking both his parents ever since he came home the summer after his second year. It had become like a game to him, seeing how far he could push them before they broke down in rage. No matter how much he provoked his father, however, he never used curses on him, like his mother. His old punishment, striking Sirius with his thick belt until he bled, had been a constant throughout his childhood and now, into his adolescence. His mother, Walburga, however, was far more unhinged than his father, and did not limit herself to striking him with her hands.
Sirius knew that, if he was sensible, he would stop running his mouth in front of them, but he had, after all, inherited his temper from both of his parents. He wasn't exactly sure where his sense of justice came from, but the two things combined made it incredibly hard to just shut up when his parents starting talking about all of their pureblood bullshit. He knew they were wretched, knew there was no way that they would change their minds due to his words, but this didn't stop him from saying them, yelling them, or screaming them at his parents at any given moment. The more he did so, the angrier they became, and the more likely he was to be punished over it. The more pain Sirius endured, however, the angrier he got in response, and so he was prone to laughing in his parents' faces as they caused him pain, which of course only made them angrier. It was an ever escalating cycle, one which Sirius knew would soon come to a head after all the years of contention.
Sirius only survived on the knowledge that he only had to endure his family for another two weeks, after which point he would leave to spend the rest of the summer with James and his family at their house in the west of England. He had been spending less and less time at Grimmauld Place each successive summer, choosing to move to James' for the last weeks of the holidays. Fleamont and Euphemia, James' parents, were two of the best people he had ever met, and welcomed him with open arms, treating him like a second son. He wasn't sure how much James had told him about his relationship to his family, or his living conditions when he was home. He figured they knew all that he had told James, or what James had deduced based on the little that Sirius had said, as James didn't know the worst of what happened to Sirius at Grimmauld Place. Sirius told himself that he could fight his own battles, and out of stubbornness, or perhaps fear, he stayed and endured this one on his own.
The last week had reminded him of the daily ins and outs of being a member of his family; everything that he had been away from for nine months was now back with a vengeance. He remembered how much he hated every inch of it: from the family house elf, Kreacher, muttering insults at him that he had no doubt heard over and over again from his mother in the time that he had been gone, to the formal small-talk at the breakfast and dinner table every day. Sometimes he disrupted the household by doing things he knew he wasn't supposed to, sometimes he stayed silent and did what he was told. Constantly rebelling exhausted him sometimes, as did the punishments for doing so.
That night, however, was his first extended family dinner of the summer, and the whole Black family would be there. This included his three Uncles, two Aunts, and two remaining cousins, Bellatrix and Narcissa. Bellatrix and Narcissa were both married by this time, but neither of their husbands would be attending the dinner tonight, thankfully. Sirius hated Lucius Malfoy and Rodolphus Lestrange, they were both detestable human beings, in his opinion, and he knew that Malfoy had been a bully and Muggleborn-hater when he was in school. It wasn't as if Sirius hated either of his cousins any less than their spouses, but at least he wouldn't have to deal with more people at the dinner looking down upon him.
The only person he thought he might count upon to be even slightly on his side at the dinner was his Uncle Alphard, who had always seemed to like him more than any of his other family members. He was an odd wizard: he'd never married, didn't see much of the rest of the family, and Sirius knew he was some sort of professor, but didn't know anything specifically about what he studied. Sirius' mother, Walburga, had always prohibited Sirius and Regulus from speaking to Alphard alone, like she thought they would catch something dangerous if they were near him long enough. From all of this, Sirius surmised that his uncle was not quite like the rest of the family, and didn't conform to all of their traditions, yet hadn't rebelled so overtly to have been disowned. He itched to discover whatever secret lay behind all of these confusing elements of his uncle's role in the family, but resigned himself to the fact that he would probably never know.
Sirius readied himself for the dinner reluctantly, pulling out his old, formal dress robes from his wardrobe and putting them on, flattening his hair, and steeling himself for the emotional torment that was sure to be his entire evening. He wished, not for the first time in the last three and a half years, that Andromeda could be there with him, enduring these dinners. Then he reminded himself that he shouldn't wish his fate upon her; she had been lucky enough to escape it, and he wished her well, but this didn't stop him from missing her.
He heard the twisted serpent door knocker sound from downstairs, echoing hollowly into the silence that was the great house, and sighed. He had better go downstairs to greet the guests, but he wished he could linger in his bedroom, which was the only safe place in the house he had. Looking around, he smiled slightly to himself, taking in the decorations. He had fought on numerous occasions about every single one of the things on his walls with both of his parents, but the permanent sticking charm he had placed on them the previous summer had prevented them from removing them while he was gone. Luckily for him, living in an all-magic household, the Ministry had no way of detecting his use of underage magic, and his parents didn't care enough to enforce the regulation upon him themselves.
Sirius finally dragged his feet towards the door and down the staircase, dread weighing him down as he went to meet his family downstairs. In the entrance hall, his mother, father, and brother stood talking with his Uncle Alphard, who was dressed splendidly in a fashion which Sirius thought quite resembled some of Dumbledore's slightly less eccentric robes. Alphard turned to beam at Sirius as he walked down the stairs, ignoring the glare Walburga shot at him for his tardiness. His Uncle was not a very tall man, only a few inches taller than Sirius himself, with shoulder-length black hair which was streaked with silver. His grey eyes were not cold, like his older sister's, but twinkling and friendly, soft wrinkles lining them when he smiled. "Ah, Sirius, wonderful," Alphard said, clasping Sirius hands in one of his own as Sirius reached his uncle's level. "Already finished your 5th year at Hogwarts, I hear? What an achievement, you must be relieved to be done with your O.W.L.'s."
"Thank you, it's very nice to see you too," Sirius said, a little awkwardly. He always enjoyed the fact that his Uncle was the only member of the family who seemed truly happy to see him, yet he was rather odd, and Sirius, never having had a real conversation with his uncle, never knew quite how to act around him. "O.W.L. year was tough, I'm very happy to be done with it."
"We haven't yet gotten his results yet, however, Alphard, so don't praise him prematurely," Walburga said, shooting Sirius a disapproving glance, to which he resisted the urge to roll his eyes. How could he possibly avoid responding directly to his uncle without being impolite? If she had truly not wanted him to ever interact with his uncle, perhaps she shouldn't have invited him to dinner. This thought made him smirk, slightly, as he knew that his mother, as much as she hated it, could not neglect to send an invite to her brother for family dinners like this, for two reasons. One was that it would simply be against pureblood customs, which she could not break. The other—probably more important—motivation in Walburga's mind was that she needed to play nice with her brother, who, while he was younger than her, was the elder of her two brothers, and had therefore inherited a large portion of the family gold when their parents died. She, in turn, wanted to know that she would be in his will when he died if she outlasted him.
"Nonsense, I'm sure you did splendidly," Alphard said, ignoring Walburga and smiling at Sirius genially. Sirius smiled back, bolstered by his uncle's praise. Walburga looked like she had been slapped, which only broadened Sirius' smile. Just then, the doorknocker sounded again, and Sirius heard Kreacher answering the door. This time, his father's sister, Lucretia, and her husband, Ignatius Prewett, entered the entrance hall to join them. Sirius didn't know much of either of them. They were childless, and travelled often, meaning that they were rarely in attendance at family dinners. They all made polite small talk until another knock sounded, and Cygnus and Druella Black, with Bellatrix and Narcissa, completed their party. They all then retired to the dining room, where they began to eat the hors-d'oeuvre that Kreacher provided and make more small talk.
As Sirius chewed and tried to ignore the people around him, he reflected on how much living in a strict pureblood household for sixteen years could make one truly hate small talk. Not just any small talk, however, but the particular flavor which always seemed to be used in Black family conversations. The kind with an constant tone of superiority, often containing racist and classist overtones, and which above all else avoided any topic which couldn't easily be explained away with the usual pureblood understanding of the world. Merlin, Sirius had not missed this.
The conversation took them quickly into dinnertime, and Kreacher served them plates of chicken with greens and potatoes. Neither Regulus nor Sirius, though sixteen, were offered wine, and Sirius was glad of it. He liked to keep his head clear around this lot; it felt dangerous not to. He ate in silence, only tuning back into the conversation when Alphard interjected some mild comment into the usual revolting elitist rhetoric. He was quite fascinated by the way that Alphard managed to express his sometimes controversial opinions in a gentle, unthreatening way. Even more entertaining was the way that none of the other adults could retort nastily, as they had polite decorum to uphold. Sirius guessed this was the way that Alphard had managed to keep his place in the family unchallenged; he did not push his opinions with a hot temper like the rest, and kept his controversy mild enough so that it could not be challenged in any meaningful way. Sirius knew he himself could never do this; he had too much anger in him, and could never pass his opinions off as mild. Still, it fascinated him.
Sirius had not been required to speak up until the middle of pudding, when his Uncle Cygnus addressed him. "So, you've finished your Ordinary Wizarding Levels, have you, Sirius?" He said, coldly, down the table to his nephew. Sirius could not help but think about Alphard's earlier comment on the same topic, which had been exponentially warmer than Cygnus' address.
"Yes, I have," Sirius said, shortly. He knew he sounded rude, but couldn't bring himself to care. Cygnus nodded curtly.
"And do you believe you performed satisfactorily?"
"I think I did rather well, yes," Sirius said, wryly. It was sometimes amusing to him that the Black family never cared an ounce what an excellent student Sirius was, his achievements thoroughly eclipsed by the fact that he was a Gryffindor.
"Good," Cygnus said, his eyes still cold. "Perhaps you will be able to bring honor to our family yet, despite your house allegiance."
"I doubt it," snorted Bellatrix, speaking for the first time, too. "Not if he continues to keep the company he is currently keeping."
"I'm not sure it's any of your business who I choose to interact with, Bella," Sirius said, glaring at her. His muscles were suddenly tensed, ready for a fight. Surprisingly, whatever this fight was going to be, it was not Sirius who had initiated it, but he would definitely be finishing it if they continued to talk to him like this.
"Who you associate with is any person in this family's business, Sirius," Sirius' father said, his eyes piercing his eldest son from the head of the table. "Your actions reflect on all of us."
"I only hope the reverse cannot be said for me," Sirius said, a wicked smirk crossing his face as a feeling of recklessness stole through him.
"You watch your mouth, Sirius Orion Black!" Walburga exclaimed, narrowing her eyes dangerously at her son. Sirius met her gaze, glaring right back at her without fear.
"Exactly what company do you keep, Sirius?" Ignatius Prewett asked him, his voice not quite as full of malice as the rest, but not truly benign, either.
"Well, uncle," Sirius said, a slight note of sarcasm stealing into his voice as he chose his words carefully, "I spend most of my time with the smartest and most brilliant wizards and witches in my year. I would say they have quite a good influence on me, and we are all the top of our class at Hogwarts, of course."
"Mudbloods and blood traitors," Bellatrix spat, sending a venomous glance towards Sirius as she addressed Ignatius Prewett. "That is who he associates with."
"Now, Bellatrix—" Alphard tried to break in, casting a scolding glance on his niece, but he was interrupted by Walburga.
"When will you grow out of these distasteful alliances? You know we will not allow them to go on forever."
Sirius let out a slight bark of laughter, staring at his mother. "It's amusing to me that you think you can force me to do anything, mother, let alone leave my friends behind. Haven't you learned how little control you have over me, by now?"
"Sirius!" Orion said, his voice dangerous. "Show some respect to your mother."
"I will when she does something deserving of my respect," Sirius said, a wicked smile still playing across his face as he met his father's eyes challengingly, ignoring Regulus' scared expression next to him.
"I can't believe I ever produced such an ungrateful son like you," Walburga said, her face flushed from anger and from the wine she had been drinking. "You are the greatest shame of this family."
"I didn't realize that I had managed to graduate to our family's greatest disappointment. I'm surprised how quickly I managed to surpass Andromeda, and I'm not even pregnant with a Muggleborn wizard's child," Sirius said, pulling a mockingly proud face. At the mention of Andromeda's name, Cygnus shattered the glass in his hand and Druella let out a small squeak of horror. Bellatrix looked enraged, but Narcissa's face remained impassive, despite a slight flinch that went through her at the mention of her sister.
"How dare you mention that name to our family!" Cygnus boomed, looking furious as he dropped the shards of the glass still clutched in his hand. "I suppose you still correspond with that blood traitor, you two are so much alike after all."
"Oh, yes," Sirius said, grinning wider and more maddeningly, "I have several photos of your granddaughter, too, if you would like to see them. I would say she has your eyes, but luckily she doesn't seem to have much of a resemblance to anyone in this family."
Cygnus growled in anger, glaring at Sirius as if he wished he could step around the table and throttle him with his bare hands. Sirius knew that whatever self-restraint Cygnus had was not shared by his daughter Bellatrix, who he knew would soon be going for his blood, given how touchy she was about her sister. He decided to provoke her further. Turning his eyes on Bellatrix, he said, "I guess it's quite the bit of luck that you didn't manage to blow her to pieces that night years ago, Bella, or else Nymphadora wouldn't exist. Though, I guess you may not see it that way." He smirked at her, reminding her without saying it of the part he had played in protecting Andromeda from her wrath that night. Sure enough, Bellatrix rose to the bait, pushing back her chair and leaping to her feet. Sirius stood as well, anger and adrenalin rushing through his body as he met his cousin as she strode over to him, furious. Unlike the night of Andromeda's departure, they were now almost the same height, Bellatrix no longer towering over Sirius considerably. They were practically nose to nose instead, their anger matching the other's as they stared each other down.
"Perhaps you won't be as lucky as she was," Bellatrix fumed. "Do you think there's anyone here who will protect you, in the pathetic way that you shielded her hideous hide? I would bet not, cousin."
Sirius knew she was right. Despite the affection Alphard seemed to have for him, his uncle would not intervene, and Regulus...he didn't think Regulus would either. He knew his brother loved him, but he had always been too terrified to stand up to any member of their family, and seemed to be buying into the pureblood superiority ideals more than ever these days, given what Snape had told him.
"Maybe I don't need protection from you, Bella," Sirius taunted her, all the while knowing that he was going down a dangerous road, one which he could not go back from now. "I think I can take whatever you throw at me. Just because you're mad as a hatter doesn't mean that you scare me."
He had barely finished his words when he was hit with Bellatrix's Cruciatus Curse. Pain coursed through his veins, through his entire body, consuming it in fire. He managed to not cry out, and though it sent him to his knees, he did not keel over with the force of it. Once he was released from the curse, he did not release his tensed muscles, not allowing himself to collapse from the pain, or the exhaustion that begged him to give in to it. After a moment, he raised his eyes to meet hers again, the fire of anger still burning in his own. "Is that all you've got?" He said, challengingly, smirking at her. He knew his lack of reaction would only anger her more, but he couldn't help it; he couldn't let her win. She raised her wand again, but a voice stopped her.
"Bellatrix, enough," Orion Black said, giving her a quelling look. She breathed heavily, staring from her uncle to Sirius, then relented. She lowered her wand, and walked over to the other side of the room, clearly trying to regain control over herself. Sirius pushed himself to his feet.
"Thank you for your concern over my wellbeing, father," he said, sarcastically.
"Be quiet, Sirius," Orion Black said, staring at his son disgustedly. "Can't you ever learn to just hold your tongue? You continually disgrace this family with every word you speak."
"Sirius, are you alright?" Alphard said in a much softer voice, looking in concern at his nephew. Sirius knew he was flushed and sweaty, but was quite proud of the fact that he showed no other sign of being affected by the curse his cousin had sent his way.
"Perfectly fine," he said, throwing a loathful glance towards Bellatrix, who was standing in the corner. Walburga rose to her feet, then, glaring across the table at her eldest son.
"Go to your room, Sirius," she said, her words deadly calm, her eyes narrowed in anger at him. "Get out of our sight; I cannot bear to witness your disgracefulness any longer."
Her voice held a cold finality in it. Sirius wondered at how she could be so quiet and cold in public and so loud with her rage in private. It was a talent he never wished to learn.
"Fine," Sirius spat at his mother. "As if I want to hang around you lot for any longer than I have to, anyway." He glanced around at them for a moment, all staring up at him.
He took in Regulus, unmoving in his chair like a dummy, Alphard, a look of fear and concern on his face, Walburga, righteous anger expressed in her whole body, Bellatrix, a sneer of satisfaction on her twisted face, Orion, expressionless in his chair. Snorting in disgust, Sirius turned and stormed out of the room, thundering up the stairs to his room and leaving them all behind in his wake.
When Sirius reached his room, he slammed the door so hard he thought, for a split second, that it would break off its hinges. "Fuck!" He yelled, aiming a sharp kick at one of the ornate legs of his bed. The pain in his foot only added to the residual aches from the curse, and he slumped down on the bed, his head in his hands, the pain too much for his muscles to hold him up in that moment.
"How will I survive more of this?" He said out loud, after a moment. Raising his head with some effort, he gazed around at his room. In his pain, the posters staring back at him, all designed specifically to piss off his parents, felt foreign. It always happened this way: once the satisfaction of his parents' shock and anger wore off, it was replaced swiftly with the dull ache of self-loathing.
The only thing on the wall that felt genuine was the photo of him and the rest of the Marauders. He leaned across his bed to look at it, his fingers tracing the edges. His friends grinned back at him, their arms around his shoulders, and he felt a pang in his stomach. He could imagine their precise reactions to him, at this moment. Peter's frantic worry on his face, the suggestions of solutions as he tripped over himself to fix the problem. James' anger and hands on Sirius' shoulders, begging him to take care of himself, to protect himself, to not rise to the bait… But it would be Remus' steady, blue gaze that pierced Sirius the most. Even then, far away from the other boy, he felt it on him.
He could imagine the other boy's expression, a crease between his eyebrows, long eyelashes framing his blue eyes, which were unreadable. His mouth turned down slightly, he looked at Sirius without a trace of a smile on his young face, which sometimes looked old. Sirius knew that if Remus was there, he would look at him exactly like this. He wouldn't say anything as the other two fretted around, just fix him with this stare, concerned and waiting. Waiting for Sirius to do something.
Sirius stood up abruptly and began to pace. "I can't do this anymore," he said aloud, testing the words on his mouth. He felt slightly scared of them, and again he imagined Remus in front of him, looking at him. "I can't do it," he told the imaginary Remus, and without nodding, without saying anything, he knew that Remus heard him, he knew that he understood.
Get out, Walburga Black's voice echoed in Sirius' head, her voice filled with rage. Get out of my sight.
He could hear voices below, suggesting that they had made their way out of the dining room into the hall. The guests must be leaving. Soon, his mother would come upstairs to punish him. Or would she?
Sirius stopped pacing, thinking hard, ignoring the dizziness, the feeling of feverish heat in his whole body, still aching from the curse. Get out, his mother's voice echoed in his ears again.
He stood there for a whole minute, pondering the situation, then, as if moved into action by an alarm, he hurried over to his bed and dragged out his Hogwarts trunk. Grabbing everything in reach, he began to cram it in. He barely looked at the things he tossed in, not caring. He vaguely registered packing clothes, books, and miscellaneous objects around his room. Realizing he was still dressed in constricting dress robes, Sirius pulled them off, dressing instead in jeans and a band t-shirt, pulling his leather jacket over it.
He had sent Caspian, his barn owl, out to deliver a letter to James that morning, so he did not have to worry about him. He would take his empty cage, and hope the owl would know where to find him, wherever he ended up.
As he threw object after object into his trunk, he felt vaguely surprised that he hadn't left before. His mother had threatened to send him out onto the street the moment he had been sorted into Gryffindor, but for some reason she never had, and he had always put up with it all. But now, he was leaving, and if he was right, his parents would not try to stop him. He wasn't sure why it had taken him so long. He had had cause to leave for years, and little cause to stay. He had stayed for Regulus, of course, for a long time, but it wasn't enough any longer.
He managed to fit most of his clothes and the few other belongings which actually meant something to him. He regretted that he couldn't take the picture of him and the rest of the Marauders with him, due to his permanent sticking charm on them. He realized darkly that because of the sticking charm, his parents would never be able to use his room for another purpose. Instead, they would shut it off, keep the door closed, trying to ignore the reminder of the blood traitor he had been, the evidence of which was immortalized forever in this space. He sighed and swung his trunk shut and locked it. Then, in a sudden brainwave, he cast a featherlight charm on it. Sirius didn't even quite know where he was going yet, but he knew it would be easier to transport this way.
He looked around his room, things he hadn't bothered to pack strewn across the ground. He wondered if this was the last time he ever saw this place, which he had spent his whole childhood in. He would likely never come back here. The thought didn't make him sad, but it did shock him slightly. Just then, he heard a noise at the door. Sirius looked up to see Regulus staring at him from the open doorway. He wasn't sure how long he had been there, watching him, but, given his brother's expression, it had probably been a while. Regulus, upon meeting Sirius' eyes, entered the room and shut the door quickly.
"Were you even going to say goodbye?" Regulus asked, a sharp note to his voice that reminded Sirius slightly of their mother. Sirius let out a humorless laugh.
"I didn't know you wanted a goodbye from me, anymore."
"You know, if you just kept your mouth shut, it wouldn't be like that," Regulus said coldly. "You're the one that makes it hard for yourself around here, running your mouth ever since you first came back from Hogwarts."
"I kept my mouth shut for eleven years, Reg. I couldn't do it anymore," Sirius said, glaring at him.
"You could if you really tried, if you actually cared about any of us." Regulus said, reproach and anger seeming to battle in his voice. Sirius sighed, his temper rising again, too.
"You're right, Regulus," he said sarcastically, "I don't care about anyone or anything but myself, just like mum says."
"Well, that's what it's seemed like ever since you came back from Hogwarts with all your new friends. You seem to have forgotten who your real family is!" Regulus' voice had risen to a shout.
Sirius snorted, his patience thoroughly used up by then. "My real family? You mean the people who torture me every time I come home? You think they love me, you think they ever did? As long as I can remember, it's been nothing but neglect and blows from our darling mother and father." His voice matched Regulus' easily, already primed with anger from the shouting match downstairs. "They couldn't care care less about what I do until it starts embarrassing them! Why should I call them my family?"
Regulus paused for a moment, staring at his older brother. The anger seemed to have seeped out of him, leaving him looking sad and tired. "And me? Am I no longer your family, too?" He sounded very young as he said this, and Sirius flashed an image of eleven-year old Regulus helping his thirteen-year old self up the stairs after being hit with his first Cruciatus Curse. As Sirius looked at him, anger draining out of him as well, he couldn't help but see the little boy he had protected for so long when they were children.
"You'll never stop being my brother, Regulus. But I'm not sure I know who you are anymore," Sirius said tiredly. "For someone who tells me to keep my mouth shut, you seem to have a lot to say about me at Hogwarts."
Red patches appeared high on Regulus' cheekbones, and he looked down at his hands in apparent shame. "I had to say something," he muttered. "You don't know what it's like in Slytherin. They used to torment me about having you as a brother."
"So you told them that you hated me?" Sirius asked, disgust in his voice. "And maybe I don't know what it's like to be in Slytherin, to be the good child with the expectations, but you have no fucking clue what it's like to be me, either."
The two brothers stood in silence, staring at each other as if each had never truly seen the other before. After thirty whole seconds of silence, he said: "You're right, I have no idea what it's like to be you. I don't even know if I know who you are anymore, either. You've changed so much in the last five years. The first time you came back from school, it was like you became a completely different person, or maybe you always were that person and you'd just lied about it our whole lives. I'm not sure you've really been my brother since."
Sirius hesitated, then strode forward and wrapped his arms around his younger brother, pulling him into a hug which would probably be their last. His heart ached, remembering all the years when each was the only friend the other had. He knew he was leaving his brother all alone, and a part of him hated himself for it, just as he knew Regulus hated him for it, too. He also knew he couldn't stay for Regulus' sake, not anymore.
"I never stopped caring about you, Regulus," he murmured into his brother's hair, "but I couldn't protect you anymore, not in the same way I did when we were kids. I've been taking blows for you my whole life, and I'm not sure it did either of us much good. Maybe if I hadn't protected you in the way that I did, you'd understand why I'm doing this now. I just cared about you too much not to."
His brother stepped back from him to look up at him, slightly pleadingly. "But you don't care about me enough to stay, now."
"I can't," Sirius said, almost crying then, "I can't stay for you anymore. This place is going to kill me, Regulus. I can't be in this house, around our family, any longer than I have already."
Regulus' face hardened, and he suddenly looked his age again, no longer reminding Sirius of his five year old self, and more resembling their mother. "Leave, then."
"You could come with me…" Sirius said, trailing off, knowing it was futile.
Regulus shook his head. "You know I'll never do that." Sirius sighed, and picked up his trunk in one hand, Caspian's empty cage and his broom in the other. As he strode past his brother to the door, he placed his hand briefly on Regulus' shoulder.
"You'll always be my brother, Regulus. If you need anything, you can always owl me."
But Regulus didn't make any move or acknowledge Sirius' statement, so Sirius removed his hand and opened the door, pausing only for a moment to look back at his brother, standing as still as a statue with his back to Sirius, in the empty shell of Sirius' childhood room. A lump surfaced in Sirius' throat as he thought about the fact that this might be the last time he was this close to his brother, but he pushed it down and left the doorway, carrying his weightless trunk down four floors to the foyer, which was empty and quiet.
He half expected his mother to pop out of the shadows and attack him, but as he walked through the dark hallway to the front door, nothing stirred in the shadows. He was right, then. She wanted him to leave.
When he reached the front door, he threw it open, taking a deep breath of fresh air as he stepped out onto the doorstep. Fleetingly, he remembered the day, seven years ago, when he first ventured out of the house to explore London. The wonderful yet terrifying feeling inspired by his newfound freedom that day struck Sirius as both very far away and terribly immediate as he left the house for the last time. The door swung shut behind him of its own accord once his trunk and broomstick had cleared the doorway. He wondered vaguely if the house would lock itself against him from now on—not that he cared. He never wanted to return.
He strode down the steps and towards the street. After walking two blocks, he finally placed his things down on the ground and sat heavily down upon his trunk. He now had to decide where he was planning on going, and quickly, before any Muggles passed and gave him odd looks for carrying a trunk, bird cage, and broomstick. His options were very limited. He could try a member of his family who was sympathetic to him, like Andy or his Uncle Alphard. Both would likely take him in, but he wasn't sure if that was truly what he wanted. Despite their blood connection, he didn't know either that well. His uncle was old, and Andy had a two year old child she had to care for; he didn't want to be an unnecessary burden on her and Ted. That left only one feasible option.
He stood, grabbing his things again and walked to the curb, sticking out his wand arm into the street. With a loud crack, a triple decker, deep purple bus appeared out of this air in front of him. Without hesitation, he climbed up the steps of the Knight Bus. The conductor, a woman in her early twenties, said "Eleven sickles," in a bored voice, her eyes barely glancing over at him. He rummaged in his pockets and handed over the money to her. "Where to?" She asked him.
"1 Blacksmith Hill, Ozleworth, Wotton-under-Edge."
"In England?"
"Yeah, it's north of Bristol." Sirius said. She nodded, still not bothering to look at him, so he went and sat down on a bed, placing his trunk in the luggage rack and grasping a pole firmly, not wanting to be shaken out of place. He had only taken the Knight Bus once before, with James, Remus, and Peter, and he had spent most of that trip on the floor, and wasn't in the mood for that tonight. The bus was relatively empty that night, so he didn't doubt that he would be at his destination soon. He watched as the bus moved quickly between the city streets of London to a lamp lit suburb, to a lonely country lane where it nearly ran over a deer, back to another cobbled street in another city.
After a quarter of an hour or so, the Knight Bus materialized on a dark hill which Sirius recognized well, and skidded to a stop next to his second favorite place on earth. He grabbed his things and exited the bus, nodding his thanks to the conductor and driver. In a second, the bus behind him had disappeared again, and he was left standing gazing at the house in front of him.
Taking a deep breath, Sirius began to walk towards the gate, grateful for the fact that it was only eight o'clock, the lights were still on, and he could hear the soft melodic sound of friendly conversation inside. He was glad he wasn't forced to wake anyone who lived there; he felt bad enough about the immense favor he was about to ask of them. He opened the gate with a creak and shut it behind him, walking up the stone path nestled in the front garden, and stopped on the doorstep. Pausing for a moment, he steeled himself before knocking three times on the door with the large, lion-shaped knocker.
The sounds of conversation stopped, then after a moment, footsteps inside approached the door. It swung open to reveal the face of his best friend, James Potter, standing in the doorway with his hair sticking in every direction and a puzzled look on his face as he took in the sight of Sirius, standing with his trunk, cage, and broom in hand. Sirius looked up at his best friend, a half-smile on his face, and shrugged slightly.
"Any chance I could crash here? I don't really…" His voice broke, slightly, emotion showing through the veneer. "I don't really have anywhere else to go."
James didn't speak, just stepped over the threshold and wrapped Sirius in a large hug, holding him tightly, in a way which spoke more than words ever could. Sirius' belongings fell to the ground with three successive thumps as he released them, wrapping his arms around James' shoulders in return and burying his head into his best friend's neck. After several long moments, James released his friend and stepped back. "Of course you can stay, Sirius. You know my parents have been offering for years."
"Who is it, James?" James' dad called from the living room.
"It's Sirius," James called back, still gazing at his best friend, his eyes searching, concern showing in them. Sirius knew he must look awful. He was still flushed, and felt slightly feverish with exhaustion and pain, though he wasn't going to tell James about any of that. Behind James, Sirius heard the rushing footsteps of his parents, and then Mr. and Mrs. Potter appeared in the doorway, as well. Mr. Potter had only to give Sirius' a once-over, taking in his trunk and other belongings laying next to him on the doorstep, to assess the situation. He stepped forward to embrace Sirius, as well.
"You're welcome to live with us as long as you would like, son," he said gruffly, his hand stroking the back of Sirius' hair reassuringly. Mrs. Potter gave him a long, searching look, so much like her son's.
"What happened, Sirius?" She asked, her voice full of motherly concern.
"They...I finally had enough of them. Or they finally had enough of me, I dunno." Sirius said, his voice sounding very small. The pressure behind his eyes, which he had first noticed when he left Regulus, increased, but it was only when Mrs. Potter stepped forward and took him into her arms in a maternal gesture—which was more meaningful than anything his own mother had ever done—that he broke down into tears. The shock, the pain, and the trauma of the evening was too much for him to hold inside. He stood there, sobbing uncontrollably into Mrs. Potter's shoulder in the doorway as Mr. Potter levitated his things up to the guest room that he had always stayed at every time he visited during the holidays. After several minutes, Mrs. Potter guided him inside and shut the door, made him tea, and sat him down in an armchair in the living room.
He recounted the whole story—except for the part where he was crucified by Bellatrix—as the Potters sat silently, listening. They asked no questions, only allowed him to speak, and when he was finished, Mrs. Potter hugged him once more, and James led him up to his room. Sirius collapsed onto his bed, suddenly too tired to do anything other than remove his shirt and trousers and climb under the sheets. Vaguely, he contemplated the possibility that Mrs. Potter had put some potion for dreamless sleep into his tea, but perhaps it was simply the chaotic nature of the day, combined with the aftermath of the curse that he had been ignoring. It didn't make a difference either way, however, as seconds from when his head hit the pillow, he fell fast asleep.
